


Timothy and Company

by GhostOfNoah



Category: Batman - Fandom
Genre: Oliver and Company AU, non-vigilante au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:56:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostOfNoah/pseuds/GhostOfNoah
Summary: 9 year old Tim Drake is an orphan on the streets of Gotham. When he's taken in by a group of strays he finds hope and family in a place he least suspected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I have wanted to do for awhile and I'm really glad I'm getting around to it. It's a reworking of Disney's 1988 movie Oliver and Company. Some characters are missing, and the story is tweaked a bit. Also they aren't animals. If you haven't seen the movie, it's perfect and I recommend it. 
> 
> Important: Tim is 9, Jason is 11, Steph is 12, Colin is 10, Damian is 7 and Dick is 13.

Lightning boomed over the dark city and the rain began to pour immediately after. Tim pulled at the front of his broken sweater and did his best to hold it closed, though he knew it was no good. 

He hadn't been on the streets long, but he'd seen enough to know it wasn't somewhere he could live long term. Nights had come and gone in the last few weeks where he missed his scheduled meals, his lumpy bed, the shouting of other children and even the harsh social workers. Reality hit him harder that it should have a nine year old, and soon he was on the streets. 

It wasn't always this way. There was a time where he was surrounded by arching hallways, lush carpets, prized paintings on all the walls and even a butler. Nobody had explained much to him, but he was smart for his age and after the sudden death of his mother it didn't take a genius to understand that his father had spent all of their wealth and had some fingers in some spoiled pies. The police came suddenly and seemingly randomly one afternoon and that was that. Tim was taken into foster care and he had run away before they could place him anywhere. 

The rain dripped annoyingly from his hair and down his face steadily and he hugged himself for warmth. He didn't know where he was going, he never really did, but he had hoped it would be warm. The few nights before he had camped behind a bakery and hid until night came before he would rummage through the days garbage to snack on discarded bagels and other pastries. The baker found him one day when Tim thought he was being careful and chased him down the block. 

In the first few days he thought he'd start on the up and up and apply for a job. He walked up and down the streets and asked in every store he passed. Some admired his plea, though unable to help, and others laughed. He wasn't the only child going hungry in the Gotham street, but he was small and scrawny and looked to frail to hold up a box. So back to the streets it was. 

Taking a second to look up at the street sign at the corner he waited at, a car sped past and splashed him; soaking him to the bone. He backed up too late and tripped over himself. Tim landed on the concrete with a shout. He held back tears as he pushed himself back up. His elbows were scraped and he was hopelessly wet. He wiped his face a final time before blindly turning the corner. A low growl caught his attention and his eyes landed on a seemingly feral dog not a few feet away from him. His heart began to hammer his chest, and without a second thought he took off running in any direction his legs would take him. The animal chased him into a gated alley and Tim dove at the fence, the dog nipping at his heels. Practically hyperventilating, he pulled himself up and over the fence and hit the ground hard. His legs gave out and he scrambled back up before taking off again, the dog yapping the whole way. 

Trying to steady his breath, Tim found himself in a junkyard. He wiped the tears and rain from his face with a shuddered sob. Taking a quick look around the child found an old pickup truck with a blue tarp over the flat bed. It was dry and seemingly abandoned so he hurried over to the truck. With a hop, he stood on the bumper and carefully lifted the tarp and peered inside as best he could with the moonlight being his only source of light. There was a small tool box tucked away at the back but other than that it was dry. 

Tim carefully climbed inside and pulled the tarp back over him and the flatbed. The darkness engulfed him and soon there was nothing but the sound of his shuddered breathing and the patter of the rain above him.

Tomorrow will be better, he promised himself, it had to be.


End file.
